


Patience

by joannereads



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Bottom Steve McGarrett, First Time, HEA, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4840235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joannereads/pseuds/joannereads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little something I wanted to write. It started out as a quick PWP, then got a bit serious, before getting very HEA. Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't proof read. I have typed, manically, and then posted. There was no beta, so all mistakes are entirely my own. I will no doubt drop back in on this in a couple of days and fix them. Until then, please pretend they aren't there! Comments are greatly welcomed, warmly received, and thanks are abundant. #H50 forever!

Steve watches Danny. Like always. He watches how he fiddles with his pen, watches how he stabs at the keyboard as though it has personally offended him (and it might well have done, for all Steve knows), and he watches as his face lights up when he answers the late-evening phone call. Gracie.

God, he misses her. Since she turned twelve, it seems she no longer thinks of Uncle Steve as being quite so cool anymore, and they’ve barely seen each other in several weeks. Steve wants to hear her voice, her laughter. He has no idea when she became quite so important to him, but she truly is. 

Danny pushes back from his table and to his feet, pushes his fingers through his hair and then scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Steve realises, as he watches, just how tired he is too. This goddamn case has been draining; he sent Chin, Kono and Lou a couple hours ago. He tried to send Danny too, but he wouldn’t go. “You stay, I stay, babe. We’re partners.”  
It hadn’t crossed his mind at the time, but Steve was relieved. Screens full of dismembered corpses had been haunting what little sleep he has managed to get this week. He didn’t want to be alone. So, despite the fact that there were a couple of glass walls between them, he was grateful for Danny’s presence.

“Hey.” Danny’s voice is low and rough. He is leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest.  
“Hey,” Steve replies, leaning back in his chair. “You heading out?”  
“Not sure. I’m tired but I’m not sleeping, you know?”  
Steve nods. He knows. “So, you thinking about getting a beer?” he asks. Danny rubs his hand across the back of his neck and stifles a yawn.  
“Yeah. Sure, why not? But somewhere quiet. I don’t think I can handle loud bass and bikini clad children this evening.” Danny’s smile is wry and Steve returns it.  
“My place?”  
Danny simply nods and Steve stands up, switches off the computer screen and grabs his keys. “Meet you there,” he says. But they walk out together wordlessly. Neither is processing the week very well. The corpses have triggered memories he had thought long since buried. Danny has been more forthcoming, mutterings about some serial case he worked back in New York.

Steve drives slowly, his eyes itchy with fatigue, and watches the road carefully. Danny follows behind. The evening is warm and Steve has the window rolled down. He can hear the growl of the Camaro behind, see the headlights in the mirror, and he feels calm. Knowing Danny is so close is reassuring, familiar. As he swings into his driveway, he knows that they both needed this. Time to decompress, together, with someone else who understands.

Steve unlocks the door and heads straight into the kitchen, grabs a couple of beers out of the fridge and heads straight for the lanai. He slumps into a wooden chair and passes Danny his beer as he joins him.  
“Thanks,” Danny says. And that’s it. They pass minutes in silence, staring out towards the ocean. It is Danny that breaks first—just as both expected they would.  
“You know, when we were hunting Bartelli, I told Rachel I couldn’t come home. I worked five days straight, slept on a bed in one of the cells for a couple of hours when I could. Eventually, Captain sent me home. That night, I remember waking up in Rachel’s arms. I was crying in my sleep. That bastard killed seventeen kids, seventeen, and all I could think was what if it was Grace, you know? Rachel, she kept trying to tell me it was going to be okay, but I knew it wasn’t. Those kids were never coming home.”  
“I know.” Steve places his hand on Danny’s knee and squeezes lightly, reassuring. Danny turns and nods. “What happened?” Steve asks, knowing Danny needs to unload this before he stands a chance of processing their current case.  
“We caught him. Took one more before we managed it, though. Thomas Briggs, eight. We found him the day after we arrested Bartelli. God, I hoped he’d still be okay, that we’d have got there in time. Thomas was—” Danny stops, swallows. Steve squeezes again then draws his hand away.  
“Bet you have enough of your own horror stories without mine to add,” Danny huffs, sitting back and running his fingers through his hair.  
“I do,” Steve agrees.  
“But they’re all classified, right?” Danny laughs.  
“They are. But it doesn’t mean I want to keep it all buried inside. Danny, some of the things I saw, some of the things I’ve lived, it’s like they’re a film in my head. I can shut them off most of the time, turn down the volume, but then we’ll catch a case like this one and everything comes back. The Navy teaches mental strength, compartmentalisation, but it doesn’t teach you how to forget.”  
“What a pair we are,” Danny adds. Then he yawns, stretches, and Steve watches as Danny’s shirt lifts a little out of his pants, stretches tight across his chest and upper arms.

What would Danny think if he knew the sorts of things Steve dreamed of when he wasn’t plagued by nightmares? Once upon a time, Catherine would fill his mind and his heart, and he’d be able to think of her to forget, to relax, to get off. But for a while now, it’s been Danny who has been his go-to.  
“Hey! Where’d you go?” Danny asks, leaning over and shoving Steve gently in the arm.  
“Nowhere,” Steve replies sheepishly. He fights back his own yawn and stands up.  
“Let’s go to bed,” he says. Danny glances up at him and then stands, reaching around in his pocket for his keys. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, blood rushes in his ears, and he realises that it’s panic.  
“I don’t want to be alone,” he blurts out. Danny looks at him quickly, a question in his eyes.  
“I mean, tonight. Will you stay?”  
“Aw man, I would, but I’m not sure I can handle a night on the couch after this week. I can’t remember the last time I got more than a couple hours.”  
“You don’t have to sleep downstairs.”  
Steve is embarrassed, a hot flush colouring his neck, but he grabs the beer bottles and heads inside. He throws them in the recycling and heads toward the stairs. Danny has followed him in silently and locked the door behind himself. He pauses, watching Steve intently. Steve feels as though they are on the precipice of something but he isn’t sure what. All he knows is that he desperately doesn’t want to mess up what they have.  
“You coming?” he asks, one hand on the railing, the other in his pocket. He’s trying for relaxed and casual, but inside the panic begins to crest.  
“What the hell,” Danny mutters and heads straight for him. “But you better keep your pants on,” he continues.  
Steve draws in a slightly shaky breath and leads the way upstairs. While he doesn’t keep his pants on, he does retain his boxers and a vest from the academy.  
“You maybe got something I can borrow?” Danny asks. HE has come from the bathroom where he’s managed to brush his teeth with his finger and wash his face. He has discarded his shirt and undershirt, and waits bare-chested for Steve’s response.  
“Whatever you need, it’s yours,” Steve says, hoping the meaning isn’t too clear. Or is. Or—gees, he has no idea what he means.

Danny slips under the covers next to Steve and flips the lamp off, plunging the room into a warm darkness, lit faintly by the moon beyond the picture window.  
“Do you ever wish you’d just been a mailman or a mechanic, or anything other than this?” Danny asks into the room. Steve, who had curled away from the blonde to try and save his dignity, rolls over to glance at Danny’s silhouette.  
“I think we can safely say I’d have made a pretty crappy mechanic, if the Marquis is anything to go by,” he smiles. He can’t believe how calm he feels—right here, in this moment, it seems as though nothing else matters.  
“Can I ask you something?” Steve probes.  
“Sure,” Danny says, rolling over to face Steve, his head rested on his folded arm. “Anything.”  
“Can I see Grace?”  
Danny sniffs in surprise, and Steve can make out a broad smile in the poor lighting.  
“Of course, buddy. Anytime. She misses you, you know?”  
“But she hasn’t been around. You haven’t been around—together I mean,” Steve adds hastily.  
“We didn’t want to put you out. Felt like we were always here. Grace suggested we get out of your hair for a bit so you could have a life of your own.”  
“I don’t want to be alone,” Steve says again.  
“That’s not what I said. What’s got into you? You seem downright melancholy, which is an unusual state for you. Manic, crazy, exhausting, wild, but not sad. Is it just this case, or is there something else.”  
Steve holds his breath for a moment. Tears burn his eyes, sudden and overwhelming in their immediacy. He doesn’t want to tell Danny. He doesn’t want to scare away the only thing left in his life that seems to make sense.  
“Just the case,” he whispers.  
“Are you sure?” Danny pushes, placing his palm on Steve’s cheek. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Unless it’s classified,” he jokes, “then I can understand you holding back.”  
“It’s nothing,” Steve says softly, pushing lightly against Danny’s hand. “Let’s try get some sleep, okay?” He closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Danny’s palm pressed against his face.  
“Sure, babe,” Danny says softly. But he doesn’t move away. Instead, he shuffles a little closer, pressing their foreheads together and sliding his palm downwards a little, so it rests on Steve’s jaw and neck. Steve holds his breath and waits for Danny to draw away, to realise his mistake. Instead, he hears Danny’s breathing shift to the deeper range of sleep, and he releases his own breath.

As Danny sleeps, their breath mingling, Steve cries softly. He cries for everyone he has lost, for the loss that he has seen, and he cries for Danny. He is in love with him. Feelings that he has tried to push away, emotions he has tried to bury, all wash over him in silent agony. He knows if he tells Danny, admits to the depth of feeling he has, that Danny will run. It has taken him months to categorise this wealth of emotion he has for Danny. He isn’t gay, has never felt like this towards any man before. But he is gay for Danny. Steve feels complete when they are together, like he is a whole person instead of the broken shards of a man he was when he arrived back on the island five years ago. Danny has fixed him.

Danny has saved him.

Danny’s thumb suddenly swipes at the Steve’s tears.  
“Tell me what you need,” Danny says gently. How long has he been awake? Steve has no idea. He knows he should pull away, turn away, close down before he gives too much of himself away, because once he does there’s no going back.  
“You,” he whispers, because apparently his brain and his mouth aren’t connected at all this evening.  
“Thank God!” Danny breathes and then he leans in and presses his lips to Steve’s. Startled, Steve freezes for just a moment before relief floods through him. He returns the kiss softly, carefully, wants to savour in it.

Minutes pass and they kiss, Danny’s palm still on Steve’s jawline. Steve’s heart is racing, his cock heavy against his leg, his breath a series of short, sharp gasps. Then his brain catches up and he draws back, suddenly very, very afraid.  
“What is it, babe?” Danny asks. He doesn’t chase after Steve, but lies still and quiet as though Steve is a skittish colt.  
“Are you sure?” Steve can’t manage any more words.  
“Am I sure, he asks. Gees, like I could have been more obvious. Yes, I am sure. I am sure I want to kiss you. I am sure I want to touch you. I am more sure of this, right now, than I am of almost everything else in my life. So get over here, you idiot.”  
And Steve gets over there.

He rolls them so that he rests above Danny. His hips and thighs fit neatly between Danny’s and the contact sends a hum of pleasure though him.  
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Steve says though gentle kisses.  
“I guess that all depends on what you have in mind, McGarrett,” Danny laughs.  
“I want to hold you, Danny. I want to be together, with you. And if it’s just for tonight, if you wake in the morning and want to put this down to stress or anxiety or sheer desperation, I’ll get that. Just, tonight, I want you.”  
“Wait, what?” Danny pushes Steve back and shuffles upwards so that he is sitting upright. He looks into Steve’s eyes, the moon having shifted to illuminate the room better. Steve is silent, stunned he could have messed this up so quickly.  
“I’m sorry,” he finally mutters. But he can’t move. His torso rests on Danny’s legs, his hands now on tight hips. He closes his eyes and draws in a shaky breath.  
“What the hell are you talking about?” Danny asks. He uses his forefinger to press under Steve’s chin, pulling his gaze upwards. “Just tonight. Is that what you think this is? A pity fuck? You think I’m so desperate to get laid that I’m settling for you?”  
“No!” Steve gasps. “No. I guess I just thought that maybe you were sad and I could cheer you up.”  
“Is that what you want? A one time thing, I mean? Because I don’t do one-time. If you aren’t all in then I am all out. I can’t do this with you just once and know that I can’t have it again. Can you even begin to understand how long I have wanted this, imagined it, dreamed of it? Shit! Sometimes it’s all I’ve been able to manage to keep my hands to myself. I am in love with you, Steve McGarrett.”  
The room is silent, save for the shallow breathing of both men.  
“You done?” Steve asks with a smirk.  
“Yes. Yes I’m done. What else is there left to say, I mean—” Steve cuts him off with a searing kiss. He throws everything he has into it. Every fantasy, every dream—none of it lives up to the sensation of actually kissing Danny. Finally, breathlessly, he pulls back and looks directly into Danny’s eyes.  
“I’m in love with you, Danny Williams. I can’t tell you how long for, or when it first started, but you and Grace are my ohana and I can’t be without you. Please, please don’t leave me.”

It’s Danny’s turn to cry. A single tear, all the agony he has felt and all the sadness he has kept pent up inside, finally released. “Kiss me,” he begs and Steve obliges.  
Steve’s tongue licks into Danny’s mouth, probing gently, until Danny ramps up a gear. Then everything becomes a frenzy of teeth and tongues and gasping breaths. It isn’t pretty, but it’s hot as hell. Steve slips his fingers beneath the t shirt Danny has borrowed, groaning at the feel of Danny’s skin beneath the pads of his fingers. The skins is soft, the hairs fine, but the muscle firm. Inexorably slowly, Steve’s caress drift upwards until he can rub his thumbs over Danny’s already straining nipples. Danny gasps and the sound shoots straight to Steve’s cock. He presses their foreheads together, gasping for breath and desperate to regain some control.  
“I’ve never, Danny,” he pants. “I’ve never been with another man,” he finally spits out. Danny smiles in the moonlight, his hair silvery against the dark headboard.  
“Me either, babe, Guess we’ll figure it out!”  
Steve is stunned for a moment. “Then why me?” he asks, his frantic passion abating into something closer to awe.  
“I have no idea,” Danny says honestly. “I just know that you turn me on like no-one I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine what it would be like to not have you around. And every time you’ve thrown yourself into a dangerous situation which has immediately threatened your life, mine, or both of them, I have promised myself I wouldn’t let it happen again without telling you how I feel. Because watching you get shot, mopping up your blood and counting your scars is physically painful to me.” Danny pauses, watches Steve’s expression for a second, before adding, “I don’t want to be alone,” mimicking Steve’s earlier confessions. “I don’t want to be apart from you, because when I am it always feels as though something is missing.”  
“Shit, Danny.” Steve’s mouth begins to devour Danny’s, his hard cock pressed against Danny’s thighs. He ruts gently, a complete contrast to the frantic kissing, but creating a delightful friction.  
“Too many clothes,” Danny pants between kisses, and begins tugging at Steve’s shirt. He rocks back up onto his heels and slips off his vest while Danny divests himself of his own. Then Steve slides his boxers off, tosses them aside, and reaches for Danny’s.  
“Wait, I’m not sure I’m—” Danny coughs nervously.  
“Don’t worry. I meant what I said. Nothing you don’t want.” Steve begins to press gentle kisses to Danny’s stomach while he slowly tugs down the borrowed boxers that stand between him and Danny’s cock.

When he finally removes the clothing, he can return his attention to Danny. His hands idly trace the inside of Danny’s thighs, his stomach, his chest, and all the while his mouth presses feather-light kisses to every inch of the man below him. Then, slowly, he slides his mouth over the head of Danny’s cock. Already slick with pre-cum, the taste bitter in his mouth, Steve begins to work Danny’s cock. He doesn’t know how to give a blow job, he’s always been on the receiving end, but he gives it a damn good go. He uses one hands to pump gently while he suckles on the head, rubbing the flat of his tongue against the underside of the head. Danny moans and thrusts slightly into the heat of Steve’s mouth and Steve startles when he realises he likes it. Something to file away for the future.  
“Steve,” Danny moans, as Steve uses his years of SEAL training to deep throat him. “Oh man,” Danny groans, before fisting his fingers in Steve’s hair. 

The sensation of Danny in his mouth is almost too much, and Steve finds himself reaching for his cock and stripping it gently. He doesn’t want to blow too soon, he wants to feel everything. Suddenly, he releases Danny’s cock with a lascivious pop and stares up at the man above him.  
“Fuck me, Danny,” he says. The realisation that he wants that, to feel so completely full of Danny, has been a last minute revelation. But now that he’s thought it, he can think of nothing else.  
“That I can do,” Danny agrees readily. He’s no stranger to anal sex, with women of course, but he knows it can’t be much different. “You got any lube?”  
Steve fumbles around in the drawer next to the bed and produces a bottle which he presses into Danny’s open palm. Then, he lays down beside Danny, spreads his legs wide, and strokes his cock in anticipation.

Never before has he wanted something so much. Danny prepares Steve slowly, painstakingly so, but Steve enjoys every new sensation. Danny’s fingers sliding in and out of him is strange at first, then hot. Then Steve’s brain whites out. Danny pushes his cock in slowly, savouring the sensation of tight heat and slick lube. Steve, on the other hand, feels full. He feels whole. Danny waits seconds before he withdraws a little and thrust again.  
“Damn, Steve. I just—this is—oh, damn . . .”  
Steve scoffs a little laugh at Danny being lost for words before pressing down a little onto his cock. It’s all the encouragement Danny needs and he begins to thrust in earnest. Danny reaches for Steve’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, and the dual sensations swell within Steve until he is writhing and moaning and gasping. Jumbled thoughts bounce around his brain, his heartbeat pounds mercilessly, and his orgasms builds in his balls.  
“I’m going to come!” he gasps, and Danny’s pace picks up, the angle shifts, and then—there! Lightning explodes behind Steve’s eye lids as Danny’s cock finds his prostate and he beings to hammer at it. His balls tighten, his cock swells, and then he comes like a goddamn freight train. Danny watches Steve tumble over into orgasmic bliss and promptly follows suit, Steve’s names on his lips and his come on his hand.

They collapse, gasping, spent. Steve cannot wait though, and he drags Danny into his body, their skin gliding together.  
“I don’t want to be alone,” he murmurs sleepily into Danny’s neck before they both pass out.


End file.
